P.O.V Paige:
I've been dealing with paperwork with my father regarding the company, and this matter has me both excited and exhausted at the same time. It happens when I don't have a lawyer or notary around to handle any business matters or procedures that need to be done.
Mason decided to postpone the trip for this reason, and I appreciate it, but all I want now is to go and rest, even if it's just for a few days. I'm constantly going back and forth, and when I'm not doing that, Mason briefs me on what I need to know to manage the family business.
It's not that it's difficult, it's just that there's a lot of information I have to handle. I want to be well-prepared to do it right. According to Mason, I'll do wonderfully, but I'm too much of a perfectionist when it comes to work matters.
Mason invited me to dinner tonight, saying he has a surprise prepared for me. It has kept me anxious all day long.
Finally, it's time to go home, which makes me happy because I've been exhausted with all the paperwork. Well, not so much that I would miss dinner with Mason. I want to know what surprise he has for me; I won't be able to sleep without knowing.
I see him waiting for me in the living room, sitting with Simba by his side. It's amazing how big and beautiful my baby is. As soon as he sees me, he gets up and runs towards me. I crouch down in front of him, and he enthusiastically licks my face. I let him while talking to him as if he were a child.
After greeting my baby, I greet Mason.
"Hey," I say cheerfully.
"Hi," he replies thoughtfully.
"Is something wrong?" I ask curiously.
"No, everything's fine. How long will it take you to get ready?" he responds with a question.
I'm sure something is up, at least something is bothering him. However, if he doesn't want to tell me, there must be a reason, and I won't insist on the matter.
"I'll be ready in twenty minutes," I say as I make my way to my room.
"I'll wait for you here, then," he replies, checking the time on his watch.
As I go upstairs, I realize that he's not entirely okay, but I take a quick shower to get ready as he had planned.
It doesn't even take half an hour, including the shower and getting ready. I didn't put on much makeup, just a bit of mascara, lipstick, and nothing more. When I go downstairs, I see Mason sitting in the same spot where he was when I went up.
"I'm ready," I say as I approach him.
Hearing me, he snaps out of his thoughts and looks at me seriously, his gaze traveling from my feet to my head.
"You look beautiful," he comments, smiling.
No matter how hard he tries to appear in a good mood, it's not working.
"Thank you. Shall we go, or do you prefer to stay home? If you're not in the mood, I understand. We can have dinner here," I say, trying to convince him.
"I'm fine, just nervous about whether you'll like the surprise," he replies, smiling, although it comes off more like a grimace.
"Since when do you worry about that? We're friends, and you know my tastes. It's not like we're a real couple," I say nervously, due to the way he's looking at me.
Saying that is as if I woke him up, his demeanor changed completely.
“You're right, let's go," he replies, taking my hand as friends, not with fingers intertwined.
I smile, even though inside I'm not smiling. It was strange his change, I had never seen him like that, maybe he just had a bad day.
We get into his car, and he drives in silence. The route he's taking leads to the restaurant that I love for its food. It's not fancy, but it's not a fast-food joint either. We're not really into those places where you pay a fortune for the food and end up hungry. We can afford it, but we just don't feel comfortable in those places. Luckily, he feels the same way as I do about it. I can't imagine having to go to those places that I dislike.
We arrive, and I notice that there's no one else in the place. We're the only ones, which is strange since they're open every day.
I look at him, and before he asks, he tells me, "I reserved it just for us tonight," blushing a little.
"Does that mean I can eat as much as I want without worrying about what people will say when they see me eating too much? You know that sometimes I prefer to get takeout because of the amount of food I can eat," I say excitedly.
"Lol, of course, you can eat whatever you want. I already know you’re eating habits, and it doesn't surprise me that you can devour everything on the menu as if the place were packed," he replies, laughing.
"Not to that extent," I say, feeling embarrassed.
It's true that sometimes, just sometimes, I can eat a lot, and that occasionally draws attention from people. They've even come up with rumors that I might be pregnant because of my eating habits when it's just that I'm a picky eater and a food lover.
We enter, and a waiter awaits us. Upon seeing us, he points to the table in the center, decorated with candles and flowers as if it were a romantic date. Just as I'm about to make a comment about it, I hear him say,
"Welcome, Mr. and Mrs. White. I hope everything meets your satisfaction. It's a pleasure to have you here," the waiter says.
That reminds me that we're a married couple, so if I comment on the romance, it might not look good on my part. I nod silently, and Mason thanks the waiter before helping me with my chair and sitting across from me.
"We would like some appetizers while we decide what to have for dinner," Mason tells the waiter.
"Right away, sir," the waiter replies.
As we're alone, my husband smiles and says to me, "I ordered all the appetizers on the menu so we can taste even the ones we haven't tried here," he whispers, and if I could, I would kiss him for that.
He knows me too well and knows that every time we come to this place, I order something new to try everything they serve here.
"Well, you've earned a gold star for that," I reply, smiling.
They quickly bring us everything, along with a bottle of wine and water. I try everything, and my mouth feels like a party with all the flavors I'm experiencing. I even moan without realizing that Mason hasn't eaten anything because he's been watching me eat. I notice that he still hasn't taken a bite, and I ask him, a little nervous about his gaze,
"Why aren't you eating?"
"Did you know that watching you eat is one of my favorite pastimes?" he asks, smiling.
I blush at his words; I feel his gaze as if it's burning into me.
"Do I look funny when I eat?" I nervously ask, stopping myself from eating.
"It's not that. It's just that you enjoy your food so much, and it's pleasant to watch you do it. I like that you don't worry about calories and all that, like some women do," he says, looking at his wine glass, which is the only thing he's had from the table.
"Come on, now I feel embarrassed. Eat, or I won't either," I reply, putting down everything I had in my hands.
"Okay, I'll eat too. What's the best thing you've tasted so far?" he asks, looking at all the dishes on the table.
"I couldn't choose; everything is delicious," is all I can say.
Everything is more than delicious, I enjoy everything, and I still can't decide what I like best.